


Bullseye

by HarmoniaChimera



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM Scene, F/M, Gun Kink, Rape Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 18:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmoniaChimera/pseuds/HarmoniaChimera
Summary: Clint comes home and his mind goes to dark places when he sees it's completely empty... or is it?





	Bullseye

When he comes home, the lights are off. He can’t hear anything but what else is new. Still, his heart jumps in fear. The lights are NEVER off. Even in the middle of the night, there’s the kids’ nightlamps, and he has Laura always leaving a light on on the porch so that he knows everything’s okay. But now, even that’s turned off.

Clint gets out his gun from the glove compartment, locks the car, and approaches the house slowly. There’s nothing. The door’s open. He goes in, gun at the ready, and drops it as soon as he walks into the living room. There it is. A single candle set on the table. Great. Not only did Laura apparently leave with the kids, she’s also clearly aiming to burn the goddamn house down.

With a sigh, Clint blows the candle and still carefully makes his way upstairs. Laura’s carelessness aside, something still could’ve happened. After all, he did bring the Avengers here and compromised his safe house. They may be gone now, but damn him if he wasn’t gonna be careful.

There’s another candle on the table at the top of the stairs. Well, crap. He blows it out but now he’s getting curious. And a bit confused. The hallway falls into pitch black, but Hawkeye doesn’t mind much. He has been trained for it. Oh, and he knows his house like the back of his hand.

“Laura?” he says softly into the darkness. If she answers, he doesn’t hear it. His daughter’s room is the first on the way, so he looks in. It’s empty. Well, shit.

He continues slowly down the hallway, checking in on the nonexistent kids as he heads for the master bedroom. The house is empty. So now we’re down to two options. Either Laura and the kids went somewhere, didn’t tell him, quite possibly on purpose, and are now watching him through night-vision binoculars from somewhere nearby and laughing their asses off, hopefully… or someone kidnapped them and left the candles as a sick signature. He blows out the one in front of the bedroom and opens the door.

He did not think of the third option.

Every surface in the bedroom is filled with candles of all shapes, colors, and sizes. The bed is made with new sheets the color of red wine, the bathroom door is cracked and the soft light of the over-mirror sconces is seeping out. Clint was never much for words but this made him completely dumb on top of everything else.

The door creaks. It’s an impulse to raise the gun. Laura appears in the doorway, wearing nothing but a negligee. She looks him up and down, slowly, her gaze stopping on the gun. Clint quickly hides it behind his back.

“It’s okay, honey,” Laura says, stepping closer and putting her hands on his chest. She smells of wine and perfume as she plays with the hem of his shirt. “I only ever told you to keep the guns out of the house for the sake of the kids, but they’re gone now.”

“What have you done to them?” he blurts out before realising that sounds like he’s making his wife out to be a villain.

She chuckles softly. “They’re out with Auntie Nat.”

“So… Nat knows about this?”

“No, honey, she agreed to take the kids out of her own volition, what do you think?”

“To be honest, at this point, I don’t.”

“Not just at this point, honey.” Laura chuckles again though the joke goes completely over his head, and places a small kiss on his lips. Her fingers trace his shoulders and arms down to his hands until they reach the gun. Clint makes a move to put it away, but Laura stops him.

“Oh, no, it can stay,” she mutters sweetly. “I like that idea. Although I  _was_  kinda hoping you’d bring in your bow.” She sighs and her breath is hot against his lips. “All those… long…  _firm_ … shafts.”

Clint gets almost unbearably aroused for some reason as Laura’s hands keeps roaming around his body, seemingly without a target.

“Clint…” she whispers, her voice almost fearful. “Do you want me?”

“Oh, God, yes.” He can barely contain himself, he wants her  _so_  much.

Laura chuckles again. “Then use all those strong guns of yours, and  _take_  me.”

Clint ponders her words for a while, uncertain. They never went that far. Aside from his job and skills, he was a perfectly normal guy with a perfectly beautiful wife and they had perfectly average sex their entire life together. He has no idea what overcame Laura now, but they  _did_ agree that she was the mistress of the house so he had no intention of defying her. He calls forth every last bit of his undercover training.

“Get on the bed, bitch.” He spits, putting his gun to her head. She squeals with a mixture of joy and feigned fear and does as he says while he steps closer, pulling his shirt off with the other hand.

Clint can’t believe himself even as he gets on top of her. “Spread your legs. And don’t try to fight me, now.” He pretends to cock the gun even though it’s already loaded. Instead, he flips the safety on before he accidentally blows her head off. And God knows he definitely wouldn’t miss…

Laura welcomes him a bit too readily, unaware of the thoughts living in his mind. She opens eagerly, like a bow yearning for the returning string. Clint starts breathing considerably harder at the very thought as he fumbles with the zipper.

“Actually, get over here,” he growls, grabbing Laura’s hair and pulling her in. “Get it out. And open your mouth.”

If she wants to protest, she doesn’t. Instead, in just seconds, Clint’s ramming his cock down her throat as she gags on it, tears sprouting from her eyes just as thick streams of spit erupt from the cracks between her lips and his foreskin. He can feel his focus slipping with every next thrust, like a wild animal taking over.

He roughly pulls her off of himself and throws her back, coughing, on the pillows. Damn, and these were such nice sheets, too. He pulls his pants down to allow himself more space to maneuver while Laura clears her maltreated throat and spreads herself open for him. Remember, Hawk, you never miss…

And he  _doesn’t_. Laura lets out something between a squeal and a scream. Clint only grunts, so overwhelmed by the sensations his mind is slowly giving out. He draws back and releases, tearing another cry from Laura’s throat. He picks up the pace, and her cries grow shorter, falling in line with the rhythm, until he’s ramming her into the mattress at the speed of the kid who died for him in Sokovia.

It’s so wildly intense he doesn’t even know his own name anymore. He’s the guy with the gun, fucking himself into this woman until she starts edging away, tears of pleasure streaming down her face. Clint puts the gun square between her eyes. “Don’t you fucking move,” he grinds out as he grinds into her. “I am putting another baby in you and you’re going to  _love_  it.”

Laura moans like a wanton whore and within no time, starts beating herself onto him to meet his thrusts, pushing Clint up to the very top. He can’t contain himself, watching her, his beautiful wife, bringing them both pleasure with such abandon, and it’s that sight mixed with the sounds of their joining and her moans that ultimately throw him into the abyss. Clint holds her close and lets out scruff, building grunts before he finally shoots… and hits the bullseye.


End file.
